


unrealized

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Challenge fic, Community: prowlxjazz, M/M, Mentions of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without Prowl, things are just empty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unrealized

**Author's Note:**

> written for week three of the Anniversary Challenge at [](http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/)**prowlxjazz**

Title: unrealized  
Universe: G1 AU  
Rating: PG  
Pairing: Prowl/Jazz  
Warnings: robot slash, mech smoochies  
Prompt: #8 Just a dream  
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing with my action figures  
Notes: written for week three of the Anniversary Challenge at [](http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/profile)[**prowlxjazz**](http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/)

 

Prowl was dead.

He had died fighting, though that didn’t soften the blow. He was still gone and Jazz still ached with the loss. He stumbled through his days in a daze, feeling like he was disconnected from the reality of the world around him.

The medics had pulled him off active duty. They said he was a danger to himself and others around him. He was on a _suicide watch_ , as if he would kill himself and invalidate Prowl’s sacrifice. As if he would strike that kind of blow against Autobot morale.

At least the Prime still asked him for advice and let him sit in on planning sessions. There was only so much sitting around and doing nothing that he could handle, especially when he couldn’t even do things like go to the firing range or run coded communications with Blaster anymore.

The halls of the base were quieter than he remembered. The lacked the feeling of liveliness they’d always had back before…

He stopped that train of thought before he could get locked into a processor loop. Prowl was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He staggered into his quarters, feeling every bit of his age. Having Prowl gone had messed him up in more ways than one.

The base wasn’t the only thing devoid of life now days.

He would have some energon and recharge early. And maybe, when he woke, the ghosts wouldn’t be quite so present.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

As he booted up, the first thing that Jazz was aware of were Prowl’s arms wrapped around him. His lover was pressed against his back, holding him tightly. Little puffs of air came from his ventilation system and ghosted across Jazz’s frame like a teasing touch and his engine rumbled with a soft idle that said the tactician was relaxed and comfortable.

It was perfect.

Jazz shifted so that he could raise his hands to cover Prowl’s. The tactician responded by lacing his fingers with the saboteur’s.

“Good morning,” Prowl said softly.

“Morning,” Jazz replied, giving his lover’s hands a squeeze. “Recharge well?”

“Well enough, when you weren’t thrashing and crying.” The Praxian placed a gentle kiss on his lover’s neck. “What were you dreaming about?”

“I dreamed you were gone. It was terrible.” The saboteur released the other mech’s hands so that he could turn over and face him properly. “I couldn’t even get through a day without you.”

Prowl frowned when Jazz’s voice hitched and he laid a quieting finger over the visored mech’s lips. “It’s all right, Jazz. I’m here, and I am not going to leave you.”

“Promise me?” The saboteur asked, though he knew it was a promise that Prowl might not be able to keep.

“I promise.” Prowl sealed his promise with a kiss. “I’m here, I love you and I’ll never leave you.”

Jazz’s systems seized for a moment as he was overwhelmed by emotion. He had been so sparkbroken in the dream, so distant and depressed and not himself. And to hear Prowl say that he felt equally deeply for him was, for a moment, more data than he could process.

“Jazz?” The tactician’s tone was worried.

“I’m okay. Just conflicting emotional sub-routines.” The saboteur rested his head against the other mech’s chest plates. “I love you too.”

Prowl pulled him close again, resting one hand on the back of Jazz’s helm and holding his head close to Praxian’s spark. They were content to simply lie together as the saboteur shook of the lingering effects of the dream.

 


End file.
